44. The Gaze of Two Men
He’d been standing there—Lloyd—since who knows when, in the exact posture of someone about to exit the room.
He said nothing to Crown Prince Leofric, simply remained where he was, silently.
“It’s been a while.”
It was Leofric who eventually broke the silence, his tone rigid.
But Lloyd, who remained speechless even after the greeting, only lowered his head after a brief silence.
His expression was clouded with thought.
“I greet the Empire’s Little Sun.”
“Yes. I didn’t know you were attending today.”
“I haven’t been feeling well, so I only came to say hello. I was just on my way out.”
Lloyd responded with his head still bowed.
Not feeling well?
Anyone overhearing that would scoff.
A man known for constantly surrounding himself with two or three women at a time, claiming to be unwell?
I made an effort not to sneer and averted my gaze, pretending to have no interest in him.
Lloyd’s face seemed to darken for a moment at my reaction, but I didn’t care.
Whatever regrets he had now, it didn’t matter. If I fell for it again, he’d only drag me down with him.
He was cunning, skilled at shaking people subtly, and always got what he wanted one way or another.
Instead of acknowledging him, I tightened my grip on Leofric’s arm.
“If you’re unwell, you should head back, young duke. Your Highness, let’s return to the party.”
As I offered Lloyd my farewell, I deliberately steered Leofric’s attention away.
At my words, both men’s eyes turned toward me—simultaneously.
Suddenly, it was overwhelming.
“Shall we go, Your Highness?”
Trying not to show any sign of fluster, I gently tugged on Leofric’s arm.
Lloyd, watching the scene, couldn’t completely hide his unease.
As if surprised I’d act like this in front of him.
“Let’s go, Amelia. Lloyd, take care.”
“……Yes, Your Highness.”
With those parting words, Leofric and I calmly walked past Lloyd.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw him clenching his fist.
I ignored it and walked away with Leofric.
The party was enjoyable.
Or rather—successful.
During the party, I met with several noblewomen.
Most attendees were either imperialists or centrists.
So, rather than engage in tedious political power games, I chose to speak of Leofric in glowing terms.
I talked about how he changed our honeymoon destination on the day of departure because he wanted to show me more, how kind and gentlemanly he was during the trip, and how he showered me with gifts.
No matter how much the social scene is a battlefield, in the end, noblewomen are still women.
Who doesn’t love a romantic man?
Not only the imperialist women but even the centrists, who initially feigned disinterest, came over one by one, intrigued by my stories.
Each one of them gasped over Leofric’s romantic gestures and endlessly praised him.
Eventually, this translated into fondness for Leofric.
“You know, most rulers in history had many lovers. Maybe it’s because their marriages were political. But His Highness seems completely different, doesn’t he?”
“Maybe it’s because he learned from His Majesty? The Emperor never took concubines or lovers either!”
“Honestly, it’s enviable.”
Praises for Leofric poured from every corner.
How they didn’t know he was this kind, how he truly stood apart from others.
There was even speculation that Leofric, even as emperor, would only ever care for me.
And the peak of all this—
“How fortunate we are to have someone like him become emperor.”
That came from a centrist noblewoman!
Even without that statement, the event was already half a success. After all, today’s goal was to foster favorable opinion toward Leofric.
But the most decisive moment came during a conversation with the Marchioness of Ferzé.
“Your Highness seems to enjoy gathering people around.”
It was just as I was heading to the terrace after mingling with others.
The Marchioness, who had been chatting with other noblewomen, approached me.
I gave her a gentle smile.
“Maybe I just had too much to say. I hope I didn’t seem too frivolous…”
“Not at all. I was only saying it’s nice that you’re so sociable. Don’t worry.”
She shook her head with a drawn-on smile, her eyes warm as she said that my sociability made others feel comfortable.
Then, cautiously, she lowered her voice and asked,
“How did you come to possess Madame de Farr’s designs? I’ve heard it’s impossible to get her work these days.”
I also heard she’s on leave.
The Marchioness whispered.
The gleam in her eyes made it clear—she desperately wanted to get her hands on Madame de Farr’s dresses.
It might be an opportunity.
I signaled her with my eyes and led her to the terrace.
There, we could talk privately without others overhearing.
The Marchioness followed quietly, and once there, it was just the two of us.
“If you’d like, I could send you a few pieces Madame de Farr gave me. As long as you’ll wear them soon. Like you said, she’s taking a break for now.”
“Oh my. So the rumors were true? And—you’re offering your dresses, Your Highness?”
Her eyes widened.
Even secondhand dresses by Madame de Farr are valuable enough to appear at auctions.
Anyone would react like the Marchioness just did.
I smiled.
“If you’ll wear them, I’ll send someone to adjust the size too. Even if someone else wears them later, they’ll be easy to alter.”
“That’s—thank you, but… are you serious?”
She clasped her hands, looking as if she would give anything in return.
“Ferzé never forgets a favor, Your Highness. I will grant you anything you wish in the future.”
Her joy was almost explosive, like she might embrace me at any moment. I subtly leaned back and smiled.
It was an expensive price to pay just for a few dresses, but I understood her desperation.
And I could guess who the intended wearer was.
“No need for that. Just tell me who will be wearing it. I’ll choose the ones that suit them best.”
A good offer declined—for an even better opportunity.
Had she no ulterior motives, I might have accepted her gratitude. But—
“My younger daughter will be wearing them.”
That was all I needed to hear.
When she nervously began talking about her daughter, I nodded and listened attentively.
“Your daughter, you mean Lady Elizabeth Ferzé? If it’s her, something bold and vivid would suit her. I’ll pick those styles.”
“Ah, well… the thing is…”
The Marchioness’s face turned red with confusion.
Besides Lady Elise Ferzé—the daughter known in society—the family had another daughter.
Publicly, they were known to have one daughter and one son, but in truth, they had a second daughter.
“My second daughter, actually…”
“Oh my. You must mean the younger lady who doesn’t often attend society events? I haven’t seen her, so I wouldn’t recognize her…”
“She doesn’t enjoy socializing. It’s… not really her thing.”
“Is that so?”
Lady Élzé Ferzé.
The family’s greatest concern—and their rare, innocent joy.
Élzé was mentally disabled.
She had a cognitive disorder from birth and, while her existence was acknowledged, she never left the estate.
Children like her are usually abandoned or mistreated—but Élzé was a rare exception.
Her parents spent time with her, and her siblings did too. Over time, she learned some social behavior.
Still, even now, basic communication was a struggle.
No wonder the Marchioness would go to any length to give her daughter something she wanted.
I remembered the image of the Marchioness grieving deeply after Élzé’s early death in my previous life.
“If it’s all right, I’ll send a few pieces I think are suitable. Please pick whichever fits your younger daughter best.”
“Would you really do that?”
Her eyes sparkled with joy, nearly on the verge of tears.
I smiled back.
For the good fortune that was yet to come.
